4 posts tagged “what the...?”

There are some people who I really wonder about, made more interesting by the fact that I do not know them.  Oprah is one.  Rachael Ray is another. (Sandra Lee is also another but she gets her own post--and has on this blog already.) Back to Rachael. We've watched said perky, non-chef, cookery maid change already simple but lovable "American" cuisine for the worst by introducing the concept of 30-Minute Meals which allows us to revel in dishes like "Zangy* Hot Dog Nachos" (ugh...a conundrum for me because I shamelessly LOVE both components but love them for who they are separately...c'mon) or "Rootin' Tootin' Cowboy Chili...which is regular chili with a completely asinine adjective attached.  I'm begging you not to get me started on the aforementioned adjectives that, upon reaching my ears, create such intense rage I feel the only way to deal with it is violence. (EVOO, GB, WTF...that last one's mine).

Of course, I blame Bob Tushman--who belongs in the 7th circle of Hell with fellow blood-traitors to the human race Dick Cheney and Sarah Palin (thrown in really just as a Cheney torture device)--who I firmly believe will get his in the end.  But back to Rachael.  Here's the shameless part.  After giving us 279082908374 episodes of meals full of carbs, saturated fat upon saturated fat (see "Zangy Hot Dog Nachos"), all the while calling them healthy because there's some vegetable presence, she's peddling a diet plan...on Facebook. AAAAHHHHHHH!!!!  As if I haven't seen enough of the cookbooks, the spices, the pots and pans, the television show, the magazine, the dog food (I'm not kidding).  Now we need a diet plan and why?  Because her original claim to this world, giving us healthy quick meals, has actually failed.  Turns out "rootin' tootin'" is just another way to say "McDonalds". So, does she admit that things didn't work out the way she thought?  No.  She saves us with her awesomely unique diet plan based on the brilliant principles of "eat less" and "exercise."  Thank God for RR. 

I'm beginning to wonder how to really respond to this phenomenon which is becoming a real issue.  Now that we've got all of these flash-in-the-pan celebrities who are famous only on personality without any discernable talent or skills...how do we stop it.  I say it's a two-prong attack.  Put the credit card away and turn off the tv.  Apathy, people.  The answer isn't anger and resistance.  I think it's apathy.  Maybe if we just don't care, she'll go away. This'd take care of Billy Mayes and the Luna people too. 

*Um, of course, "zangy" is a fun combo of the words "zesty" and "tangy"; one such linguistic device that has eaten away at our already sad grammar and vocabulary prowess in this country.  And it infuses an implied level of fun into this food that I find objectionable.       

You ever been there?  Ever done something that seemed hilarious at the time but, given the ability to use the keen powers of hindsight, you realize that you just really looked like a huge ass? Yep.  That's where I'm sitting right at this very minute.  I'm always surprised at how novel or surprisingly new and uncomfortable this feeling is considering the fact that I'm comfortable knowing that I've become something of a clown in my almost middle age (and by almost I mean, my thinking  I'm middle-aged when in reality that's still a ways off...unless I'm destined to live only until I'm 66.  In that case, I'm right on target).  On a regular basis, I do things that cause my friends to turn to me and say, "Oh my god...aren't you so embarrassed?" I'm usually able to respond, "Um...no." There's a kind of freedom in embracing life in a bold, unconventional way.  I've grown completely used to laughing too loud or saying something completely true but with no tact whatsoever or exploring what can be a very zany, wildly creative side of myself.  All of this is done with a measure of my own moderation.  I decide who, I decide when, I decide...WHO! (That's a movie quote, by the way...if you can guess who said it I'll give ya...well, a well-deserved, validated feeling of accomplishing absolutely nothing...)  I think I feel dumb because I failed to moderate myself and know it.  So now I've left myself out there, hanging by a thinly veiled shroud of "Oh my god...I am so embarrassed."  These are the times when I wish that time itself was not forever etched in stone.  The past is done.  I'd like it not to be today, thanks very much.

Am I going to confess to you this most egregious social error?  Um...no.  The truth of the matter is that it doesn't matter.  I can almost guarantee that what you're thinking might have caused this feeling probably goes well above and beyond the actual event...probably.  What you're speculating happened most likely is not even remotely close...most likely. Truth be told, the details of the situation are immaterial at this point.  All you need to know is that I feel dumb.  And I think the only remedy is to try to forget it happened.

But since I can remember with pinpoint clarity the exact outfit I wore on my first day of school (that's right...kindergarten...) down to the socks I sported and how they felt on me (they were horizontal striped knee socks...the elastic band at the top was too tight...), I've got a long road ahead.

Ah well.  Se la vie. 

You should see what I'm wearing today.

I didn't intend to be the 67 inch Rainbow walking down Clinton Avenue this morning on may way to United Way.  But I realized well after I'd left the comforts of my little Rogers Park hovel that I was destined to be known as such for the rest of the day.  Here's how it happened:

I think I've pretty impressively and longitudinally documented my morning murkiness.  This is a chronic condition, always requiring some kind of caffeine to lift the fog.  This morning was one of those special days on which I absolutely knew I had to get downtown earlier than I have been.  So when 7:30 jangled, I shot out of bed and into the shower.  This action does not (DOES NOT!) mean that I am mentally awake.  It just means that for a short 30-40 minutes my body gets to run the show while my brain is still snoozing.  I put myself together and got out the door in time to catch the train I needed and as I sat down I felt pretty darn good about myself.  I even blew dry my hair this morning and remembered to brush my teeth (a rare coincidental pair). As I strode out of the train station and onto the sunny street I lightly remembered yesterday's melancholy and thought, "Huh...I knew today would be better."  And then I caught sight of myself in a massive pane glass window sported by one of the buildings on Clinton and now I knew exactly who I was going to actually be today: Johnny Depp in Willie Wonka. 

Allow me to paint you the picture.  Standing before me in the glass was a girl with longish blonde hair, black sunglasses, a red jacket with a brown lining covering up a partially buttoned egg-yolk yellow cardigan and an orange silk scarf.  Under the yellow sweater I have on a azure blue tank.  At this point, I thought I was wearing black pants which would have "grounded" the top portion of my outfit, but no.  My pants are a reddish brown color which somehow enhances the colors up top.  Oh, and I'm wearing khaki shoes.  I look like a bowl of Trix.

It was only yesterday that my friend Kristine told me that I'm one of two of her friends who has the potential to wear green pants to work.  I objected, challenging her to name the last time I worse anything that even resembled green pants.  I don't even own green pants.  Clearly, today, I see that's a good thing.

Because if I did, I'd surely be wearing them.

Alright, every now and then I stumble upon something that makes me think, "Wow, truly...what is this world coming to?"  We've got war, we've got global warming (which, by the way I DO NOT think is a hoax--I just generally err on the side of gloom and doom...well, that and the stark lack of glaciers in the northern region of the planet).  Anyway, as I was settling into my day at work, just easing into back into the world from my bear-like winter slumber, I stumbled upon these and was taken aback.  I present the startling images:

Flowerurinal

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